Silver
by Memai
Summary: Hermione has a secret. A secret that she herself does not understand. She's making connections she never thought she would; to the Forbidden Forest, its creatures, and...Draco Malfoy? When Hermione bleeds silver, who can help?
1. Rude Awakening

Memai: Hola, peoples! Yes…I re-loaded this chapter. Sorry for any confusion. The formatting was a bit off the first time I loaded it, and ff.net was crapping, so…yeah. Lol. ^.^ Anyway, this is a HP fic I'm writing to occupy myself while I plan, design, and rethink my novel. Just a few words before we begin…

            Phoebe: Yeps!

Memai: Yes, first introductions. I'm Memai (no duh.), the author of this fic. Rock on.

Phoebe: And for those of you who don't know moi, I'm her muse. *cheesy grin* And I'm doin' the disclaimer! Wh00t! Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not Memai! However, this story DOES belong to Memai, as does Kekka Hoshino, a character you will meet later. Basically, everything that Memai makes up (You know what it is.) is Memai's, so don't even THINK about stealin'. 

Memai: Righto then, enjoy, and don't forget to review! ^.^

º- »¤« -º

_Hermione weaved her way through the trees of the Forbidden Forest, eyes darting up and down to keep notice of her footwork and the woman ahead. Not that she could lose track of her—the silver light that wrapped around her body made sure of that. It stood out brilliantly in the darkness of the night forest; a candle to like Hermione's way. _

_            The woman turned and beckoned Hermione with a soft motion of her hand. "Come." She turned again and began her slow walk; her long, white skirts rippling over the tree roots. Though Hermione was moving faster than the woman, for some reason she could not reach her._

_            Hermione sped up, trying to avoid the tree roots that threatened to trip her. Her breathing grew heavy from running, and when she tried to call out for the woman to stop not a single sound would allow itself to slip from her mouth. If she could only just talk, the woman would stop!_

_            "Come," the woman said again, her voice echoing with slight urgency. "Please help," she pleaded. She gave another wave of her delicate hand and turned again. Each time she spoke to Hermione, she seemed to grow sadder and more desperate for whatever help she needed._

_            Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted a movement. She turned her head to see a girl running along beside her a good many meters away, unaware of Hermione's presence. Hermione almost called out to her, but snapped her mouth shut when she remembered that she couldn't talk. Still making sure to follow the woman, she focused for a moment on the girl. She looked to be a fifth year…the same as Hermione. Hermione wasn't sure what house she was in, but if she wasn't mistaken it was Ravenclaw…or perhaps Slytherin._

_            "Please, please help!" The woman called again, her light fading and the desperateness in her voice making itself more apparent. Her pretty features were clouded over by concerned eyes. Soon the woman faded into darkness and all that was left of her were tiny, silver ribbons of light bouncing among the trees she disappeared near. Soon those faded into glitter and left entirely, leaving Hermione and the other girl alone in the forest. The moonlight began to fade, as did the stars. Hermione felt darkness swallow her, and she could no longer see the other girl. Her heart sped up in fear, and she hugged her arms to her chest. She was totally alone, and soon the last bit of light faded._

_            "Make a light, Hermione," the woman's voice whispered out of nowhere._

_            Hermione fell through the darkness that had captured her and screamed a soundless scream as the voice came again._

_            "Make a light."_

º- »¤« -º

"Aah!" Hermione yelped slightly as she awoke. It only took a few seconds for her to register her surroundings…instead of being in her dormitory she was sprawled out across a cold, stone corridor. 

            "A bit clumsy tonight, aren't you, Granger?" a voice taunted from within the darkness. Hermione didn't need to search for the figure to find out who it was.

            "Yes, hello, Malfoy." She stood shakily and shook her head free from her dream-like state. Her face turned into a scowl as Draco stepped into the light of a window. He leaned against the wall and smirked in an amused way that rather annoyed Hermione.

            "I'm sure I'm equally glad to see you as you are me," she said sarcastically. "But I'm not in the mood to deal with morons like you, so just shove off!"

            Draco simply stared at Hermione and tried to suppress a laugh. In the end he couldn't help himself.

            "What? Why are you laughing?" Hermione demanded. Draco just pointed at her and continued to attempt suppressing his hysterical laughter; an attempt that wasn't going over too well. Hermione looked down at herself and gaped, her cheeks lighting up into a cherry red as she sized up her situation. She was standing in the middle of a random corridor…in front of Draco Malfoy…wearing cat-print pajama capris and a random white tee-shirt with a chubby little piglet on it (with angel wings and a halo, no less.), bearing the slogan "cutie". She also happened to be sporting a pair of rainbow, knee-length toe socks. To top it all off, her hair looked like it had been paralyzed while she slept, as it was sticking out in directions most would think impossible for hair. In short, she looked ridiculous. And here she was telling her enemy off.

            "Okay, okay, just SHUT UP!" Hermione hissed, furiously attempting to smooth her hair. 

Draco reduced his laughter to a few light chuckles and grinned menacingly. "You look _ridiculous, Granger. This is just…too good!"_

"Shut up, _ferret," Hermione retorted slyly, matching his grin._

Draco scowled. "Ha. Ha," he said monotonously. Her looked Hermione over again and crossed his arms. "So, what are you doing in the corridors at such a late hour?"

Hermione blinked. In truth, she herself did not know, and the confusion of the situation struck her. "I-I don't know, I guess I slept walked or something…" _Yeah, that's got to be it,_ she thought. She quickly reverted back to her snappy mood. "Who are _you _to ask? And what are you doing out so late, eh?"

"None of your business, Mudblood," Draco spat, walking briskly past Hermione and shoving her in the process. Hermione turned to rebuke him, but decided not to and simply shook her head angrily, clenching and unclenching her fists. How she _hated that filthy wretch._

Hermione quickly identified her position and started back for the dormitories with heavy, tired steps. Her thoughts turned to the dream, which she had had for the umpteenth time that year. Did it really affect her so much as to make her sleep walk? As Hermione pondered, she realized that the woman in the dream seemed very real…almost tangible. Almost so tangible as to be able to influence her…and ultimately make her do things like sleep walk. This was getting to be a definite problem.

º- »¤« -º

Morning came fast, and Hermione was rudely awakened by Crookshanks jumping on to her feet instead of the end of the bed. Sunlight glowed through the curtains covering Hermione's window, pleading to be let in. Hermione sleepily obeyed the request and drew the curtains back, letting the sun brighten the room and fall onto the bed in thick ribbons.

            _Just like the woman's light…Hermione thought. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Why was she still thinking of the dream? She _had _to stop this! Rolling out of bed, she went to go tackle the bird's nest she called "hair" with an army of styling products._

º- »¤« -º

"Good morning, 'Mione," Ron greeted as Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

            Hermione ruffled her boyfriend's fiery hair and took a seat across from him and Harry. "Mornin'," she said blandly, absent-mindedly filling her plate up with food. Her two friends simply stared at her in amazement as the food piled higher and higher.

            "Erm…Hermione…are you sure your that hungry?" Harry inquired, exchanging glances with Ron. Hermione, however, had pulled herself from the chatty breakfast scene and immersed herself in thought. 

            "Hermione?" Harry repeated.

            No answer.

            "HERMIONE?" Finally the boy pried the fork from Hermione's fingers, and she blinked in surprise. Muttering an apology, she stared down at the food on her plate.

            "Um…did I do that?"

            Ron eyed her suspiciously and poked at his French toast. "Yes, as a matter of fact you did…is anything wrong, 'Mione?"

            Hermione dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "No, no…" she trailed off into thought again, nibbling here and there at the mountain of food before her. "Just lost a bit of sleep over an odd recurring dream…" She neglected to tell them about her interesting encounter with Draco.

            Ron nodded and continued inhaling food. "Right, then."

            A silence followed between the three, as the two boys were pretty satisfied with Hermione's explanation. Hermione, however, couldn't seem to get her mind off of the dream. After about the seventh _and _most vivid recurrence it was definitely thought-provoking. Why was she having this dream so much? Hermione pondered the question as she flipped through the scenes in the dream. The fact that it took place in the Forbidden Forest stood out in her mind. But what could that mean? The more she mused, the more interest she found in the situation.

            "Let's get a detention," Hermione found herself saying subconsciously.

            "What?" Harry asked, dropping his fork. Ron stared at her like she had just announced she was going to live the rest of her life as a spider.

            "Um, nothing, never mind," Hermione stuttered. _Why the heck did I say that?_ "I just want to check out the Forbidden Forest."

            "Hermione, you're not going to classes today. You're staying in bed until you get better," Ron said.

            "Ron, I'm fine!" Hermione insisted. "Is it so odd that I just want to take a peek at the forest?"

            "Yes!" both the boys nodded.

            It was then that Draco decided to pay a little visit to their table. He sauntered up beside Hermione, smirking broadly. Hermione's face fell…she knew what was coming. She threw her enemy a look that said "please go away" and "shut up or I'll snap your limbs" at the same time. Draco, needless to say, simply ignored her.

            "So, Granger, did you manage to get any sleep after that interesting night we had?"

            Ron's fork fell. "WHAT?"

            "Ew! For heaven's sake, Ron, it was _nothing _like that!" Hermione yelled, glaring at Draco. "I bumped into Ferret Boy here while sleep-walking in the corridors."

            "Or so she says."

            "Shut up, Malfoy."

            "Right, but first I must comment on your lovely attire—" Draco started.

            "Malfoy—"

            "She happened to be wearing rather amusing rainbow toe socks and—"

            "That's ENOUGH, Malfoy!" Hermione screeched, pushing him from the table. "Now goodbye!"

            "And good riddance," Draco finished.

            "Yes, I believe your late for your morning snog with Pansy," Hermione spat, shoving in another piece of French toast.

            "Ah! You're right!" Draco said in mock surprise. "And I'm sure you'll have just as much fun kissing that lanky peasant of yours." He grinned wickedly and strode off. Hermione just sat and glared, leaving only Harry to restrain Ron.

            "Lemme go, Harry!"

             "Ack, no!"

            "Let…me…go!"

            "Sit down, Ron!" Harry pushed Ron back into his seat and shoved his fork into his hands. "Eat."

            Ron obeyed. 

            "I'm leaving," Hermione announced, getting up from the table and walking briskly out of the room. The dream had returned to her mind, and once again she couldn't get it out. Perhaps if she just outside _near _the forest? Yes, that was it. All she needed to do was go check out the forest…just to look at it. That would stop the dreams. Or maybe Hagrid needed to tell her something…after all, he lived near the forest.

            _Yeah, that's it! Then this'll finally be over._

"Oomph!"

            Hermione jumped a bit as she bumped shoulders with a passer-by. She turned to apologize, and was met by the all-too familiar face from her dream.

º- »¤« -º__

Like it? Hate it? Tell me in a lovely little review! Please tell me the good AND the bad, so I can improve. Thanks so much! ^.^ 

Also, do you spell 'snog' with one G or two? (Lol.)

- Memai -


	2. Potpourri

            **What you**** NEED to know: Now that The Order of the Phoenix is out this obviously won't go along with it, so you just have to sort of pretend the events in it aren't going on. I'm going to carry on as I had planned. I may, however, draw _some _things from OOTP and insert them in here. For example, Fred and George testing out their joke shop items, the existence of the OOTP itself and its members...sorry if this confuses anyone, but I really want to go along as planned. So, as I said, I am. ^__^**

**A/N: I keep getting pop-up advertisements for Vigel and penis enlargement pills and other random crazy crap…it's driving me INSANE. *bangs head on desk* (And yes, you needed to know this. ^^) Oh, and I don't know if I spelled Pauperie right. I couldn't find it in the dictionary. What I mean is the dried-up good-smelling stuff you put in rooms pronounced "poe-pehr-ee". If I spelled it wrong, please correct me. Thanks. **

"Erm, excuse me," Hermione stuttered, starting into the face of the equally startled girl. 

Hermione bent down to help her pick up her fallen books, her hands slightly shaking. She looked _exactly like the girl from her dream, and her uniform told Hermione that she was indeed a Slytherin, as she had thought. It was her hair that gave her away, though—jet black with pieces dyed blue towards the front. Hermione began stacking the books neatly in her arms…they were on normal subjects; potions, transfiguration, herbology...etc. There were odd ones, however. The Keeping of Barn Owls, Great Expectations, and most interesting of all, The Forbidden Forest Volume 2: Plants & Vegetation._

Hermione stopped stacking and held the book as she pondered. The Forbidden Forest was where the dream always took place. This _definitely _had to be the girl from the dream, and from the look on her face she was thinking the exact same thing about Hermione. However, there was also the possibility that she was wondering why on earth Hermione was staring at her book. Either way, Hermione couldn't very well make her thoughts known to the girl. What would she say? 'Excuse me, but I think you make yourself present in my recurring dream in which I fall into endless darkness after being led around the forest by a woman wrapped in light.'

Yeah. That would go over well. 

"_Ahem!"_

Hermione jumped a bit and her head shot up to meet the slightly aggravated expression of the girl.

"Mind if I have my book back?" she inquired.

Hermione rose and dusted her robes off a bit, fighting down her obvious embarrassment. "Erm, sorry." She hastily handed the book back to its owner and the two turned in a swirl of robes and went their opposite ways.

Hermione mentally kicked herself. _Stupid Hermione. Stupid Hermione. Made a FOOL out of yourself. AGH, stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"...Where was I going?" Hermione wondered allowed, turning this way and that. "Ah, yeah. The forest."

She continued her brisk walk, finally pushing open the doors to the thick abundance of morning sunlight outside. She strode towards Hagrid's house, eyes attacking the forest with a look that said "I want answers. NOW." Upon arrival, she quickly patted Fang on the head and knocked on the door, resuming her cool-headed attitude in a quick breath. 

            "Comin'!" a gruff voice from inside called, soon followed by large, muffled footsteps. The door opened and out poked Hagrid's bearded face, thick eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

"Ah! Hermione!" the man boomed, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in," he gestured with a few swoops of his large, rough hand. "Just makin' some soup, 'ere." 

Hermione closed the door behind her; the warm, homey smell of Hargid's cabin and the aroma of the unidentified soup filling her nose. Hagrid picked up a ladle and stirred the soup a bit, sniffed, and grunted in satisfaction as he sat down in a chair near the bubbling cauldron. Hermione sat down in the chair opposite of him.

"So, Hermione," Hagrid smiled. "What brings you 'ere?"

"Nothing special, Hagrid," said Hermione, trying her best to sound casual. "Just thought I'd drop by for a visit."

"Ah, good of you to come, 'Mione. You can be the first to try my soup!" Hagrid beamed.

Hermione smiled weakly. "Oh, yes!"

Hagrid gave the concoction another stir. "So, where's Harry and Ron at today?"

"Oh, um...quidditch!"

Hagrid stroked his dark, bushy mass of a beard. "Hm, that's odd. I was out a few minutes ago and didn't see anyone out—"

"_Discussing quidditch, I mean. I got rather bored, so..." Hermione shrugged. "I decided to pay you a visit."_

"Oh, I see."

Hermione broke the silence that followed. "So...Hagrid...everything been alright lately?"

"Yep, I've been well. You?" Again he stirred, staring suspiciously at the soup. "Good, good," Hermione assured. _Ok, that didn't work…_

"Everything been well? You know...Fang, the Forest..." she trailed off and bit her lip as the reality of her bad acting hit her.

"Erm…not bad…" Hagrid trailed off and raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Anythin' wrong, Hermione?"

"No, no, I'm fine!" Hermione insisted, plastering a smile on her face.

"Uh-huh," Hagrid turned back to the soup. He straightened and sniffed approvingly. "Righ' then! I think it's done. Would ye' like a bite, Hermione?"

"Oh no, I should get going," Hermione said, rising a bit too quickly for her polite tone. "But thank you, Hagrid."

"Any time, any time," Hagrid said, looking slightly disappointed.

"Bye then!" Hermione let herself out.

º- »¤« -º

Hermione shook her head as she started out across the lawn. She was getting nowhere. She'd just have to deal with the dreams…for now, at least. Until she could figure out a way to get the answers she needed. One thing was for sure: she was NOT going into the forest alone. And there was no way that she was going to ask Ron and Harry to go with her—she remembered all too well their reactions to her half-conscious declaration that she wanted to go into the forest. And frankly, she'd be scared to go with _or without them. She'd much rather find her answers _outside _the forest._

_Alright…think, think…What EXACTLY happened last night?_ Hermione thought.

She had woken up on the floor of a corridor. What corridor? Hermione scanned her mind…she couldn't really remember. A corridor with…a big window. Near…the library! 

_Right then._

She had met Draco there, they had argued, they had parted…nothing out of the ordinary. But why had Draco been in the corridors? She had never gotten an answer from him. 

_Probably just Draco being Draco, _Hermione thought huffily. Maybe she'd ask him again later. Not that he'd give her an answer, but it was worth a try…and a nice threat or two wouldn't hurt either…

Hermione mentally slapped herself. She was a prefect! She couldn't do that; she'd have to try something else. Oh well—that was a question to be answered later. Right now there was Friday's homework to be done.

º- »¤« -º

Draco's eyes grew weary as 9:00 P.M. drew near. He set off from the library down the corridor, the single lonely sound being the echo of his footsteps off of the wall. He often wandered the halls of Hogwarts at night…it was a familiar sound to him.

Draco became slightly more aware of the world as a second pair of echoes joined his own; first faint, but then growing. A figure stepped around the corner and into view, nose practically buried inside an oversized textbook. Draco couldn't quite figure out who it was, but as he got closer he could see the faint torch light glinting off of black hair and a pair of glasses now and then. Messy black hair. Overly-round glasses.

Potter. Just _dandy. A wonderful way to end the evening. And knowing tendencies to be as they were, they were probably going to end up in a fight and would either a) be spending the night in the infirmary or b) they would both wind up with detention. Draco favored neither choice…but there he was. Right there, so unsuspecting. Draco couldn't help but find amusement at the thought of throwing off Potter's night. Maybe he'd just give him a bit of a nudge, just make him stumble a bit and drop his book…or perhaps trip him. Then he'd walk off before they'd even have a chance to even _think _about fighting._

The distance between them shortened and Draco stuck out his foot right in Harry's path, a huge grin overtaking his face. He had to admit, it was actually rather juvenile, but hilarious all the same. Harry let out a cry of surprise and fell to the floor, a muffled echo left in his wake. His book hit the floor and loudly slammed itself shut beside him. 

Harry came to his senses and pulled himself to his feet, glaring at Draco. "Ha. Ha. I'm amused," he growled, bending over to heave the book from the floor.

Draco tried to move; tried to walk away like he was supposed to. He couldn't.

Harry straightened his glasses, which had slid half way down his face. He spoke again when he received no reply from Draco. "Git."

Draco did not move or speak, but stood rooted to the cold stone floor, staring blankly at the face of his enemy. 

Potter smelled _good._

Harry turned to leave, fighting the obvious urge to stain Draco's now sickly pale skin.

Potter smelled _damn good._

"Wait." The word left Draco's mouth before he knew he had even said it.

Harry stopped and raised his eyebrows in annoyance, but said nothing.

Draco had no clue what he was going to say. He stood there, feet as heavy as anything. His mouth seemed to be sewn shut at the moment, any words he could say tangled up in the mass of thread he was choking on. He felt nothing; not the coldness of the corridor, not the heat of Harry's agitated stare. He saw nothing; he was not aware of the day or night. He was overtaken by the scent that Harry carried about him. It wasn't recognizable at all; Draco had never smelled anything like it. Ever. It filled his mind, blocked his senses, drew him in, and held him fast. The air was thick with it; it was all he could breathe, all that he could think of. 

In one swift movement Draco covered the three feet of space between them, any remaining shred of resistance drowned out by the scent. He didn't care; he just wanted to be near_ it. It drove him _mad_. Draco rubbed his nose into Harry's unkempt hair and breathed in as Harry froze up. He choked on the scent, entangled as it weaved its way deeper and deeper into his mind, trapping him. Harry made a few small noises of protest but was too stunned by the suddenness of it all to do anything._

_Smells so good…_

Draco moved downward and nipped softly at Harry's neck, beginning to register exactly what he was doing…he didn't much care.

Before Draco knew it Harry's fist had connected with his face in a furious and confused effort to pry the blond boy off of him.

Draco stumbled backward, and his body tensed up immediately. His head jerked up to meet the eyes of Harry, who was wiping his neck with the back of his hand and glaring at him with a strange, mixed look of confusion, fear, and furious anger.

Draco, to put it plainly, was horrified.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…_

They stood motionless, silence reigning. Draco felt his palms grow slick with nervous sweat, and he had to remind himself to breath. What _was_ that?

Harry turned and stumbled down the corridor and out of sight, leaving Draco standing dumbly in the shadows and rippling torchlight.

_Oh** shit**_.

º- »¤« -º

Hope you liked it. Heh. Have I confused you a bit? ^__^

            I just have one **VERY ****IMPORTANT NOTICE. Sorry. I have to do that to get people's attention. ^^ Anyway, if you start to catch on to some of the things that are happening, whether it be now or later in the story, that's cool and all but _please_ keep it to yourself and don't include any of your suspicions or theories in reviews. I'd like people to figure things out for themselves—that's half the fun of the story. Thanks. ^__^**

            Review questions and things I'd like you to include:

1) Are the chapters an ok length for ya'll? Do they need to be longer/shorter?

2) How is my portrayal of the characters doing?

3) What or who would you like to see more of?

4) Any suggestions or comments you'd like to make.

ACK. MORE SICK POPUP ADS. DIIIEEEEE. 

Uh-huh. Kthxbaiiii!

--Memai


	3. Enter Kekka

            **A/N: Well, I don't know how the continuation of this is going to go. At the very _least it's going to take a back seat, because I'm working on two projects right now—one original fiction and one comic idea. I don't know; I've never really been great at fanfiction. You have to stay in one fandom for a while to do it properly, and I sort of go through little spurts of interest, y'know? I suppose that's why I prefer writing one-shot fanfiction…it doesn't require that long-term fandom to be written. Oh well. I like the concept well enough as well as the different ideas and conflicts I have for the story, so it may go on. We'll just have to see, I suppose._**

            **A few questions answered:**

**Fish:** 'Mione is just a nickname for Hermione.

….That was one question. Okwhatevershutup. .

Harry practically ran into the portrait as he skidded to a stop, gasping out the password at the rather confused Fat Lady. 

            "You alright, dear?" she inquired.

            Harry, still gasping for breath, nodded vigorously (and falsely, for that matter.)   The Fat Lady smiled at him reassuringly and the portrait swung open. Harry climbed in, almost tripping over himself as he did so. He could feel his legs shake as he stepped; he felt lightheaded, almost weak.

            _Ok, just calm down, he told himself. _

He paused and took a few deep breaths before proceeding into the common room, slapping a natural look on his face and looking around for Ron or Hermione. The fire was lit high in the fireplace, crackling and popping lazily in all of its pleasant warmth. Students were everywhere—in the chairs, around the tables with papers sprawled every which way; on the floor with towers of books, parchment, and ink piled beside them. The low murmur of voices drifted sleepily through the room, undisturbed by Harry's entrance.  It was almost enough to calm him.

            In a quick look Harry found both Ron and Hermione sitting comfortably in their favorite armchairs in front of the fire, Hermione poking Ron every now and then when he looked like he was beginning to nod off. Ron, of course, was doing what seemed to be last-minute homework, and Hermione looked to be reading a novel. How she found _time _to read novels Harry didn't know, but he knew better than to question those kinds of things. He walked briskly across the room and sank down gratefully into the armchair beside Ron and facing Hermione. He closed his eyes and sighed, furthering his attempts to calm himself as the warmth of the crackling fire welcomed his cold skin.

            "'ello," Ron said, not lifting his eyes from his parchment.

            Hermione set her book down on her lap and smiled. "Hey Harry."

            Harry's vocal chords didn't seem to want to work, but he spoke anyway. "Hey," he croaked, immediately clearing his throat afterward. He smiled at his friends. "What's up?"

            Hermione sighed. "Not much. RON here decided to leave his potions essay to the LAST MINUTE," She informed Harry several octaves higher than her normal tone. ((A/N: I don't even know how much higher a voice gets per octave…but hey, it's all good. o_-)) ((………come to think of it, is octave even the right term......? o.o))

            Ron grunted and continued filling the parchment, quill scratching madly. Harry's eyes followed the quill as it moved across the paper, his mind busy searching for something to say. He felt rather put on the spot, for some reason. Acting normal was turning out to be far more difficult than actually _being normal. In the end he resolved to act overly interested in what those around him were doing…which wasn't very interesting at all._

            "Can you BELIEVE Snape?!" Ron suddenly fumed, slamming his quill down on his paper. "I've still got another assignment due tomorrow for him _on top of this!"_

            "Well, you'd be fine if you wouldn't do everything the night before," Hermione sighed, turning a page in her novel.

            Harry took that topic and ran with it. "Still, Hermione, you have to admit he does give us a lot. The only people who _don't _complain about him are the Slytherins, and that's only because he's head of their house!"

            "If you can't handle it then go talk to Snape—I'm sure he'll understand," Hermione drawled sarcastically.

            "Yeah, right," Harry smiled, his eyes following a group of first years on their way up to the dormitories. He wouldn't mind a bit of sleep himself. Not that he would be able to get any after the night's...cruel and nauseating events.

            "I'm gonna turn in before I fall asleep in the chair," Harry said. "G'night." He rose reluctantly, feeling ten times more tired now that the thought had settled in. Mmm. Warm bed….fluffy pillows…

            "Oh, Harry," Hermione piped.

            Harry turned, running a hand through his messy black hair. "Mm-hm?"

            Hermione grinned mischievously and pointed somewhere around Harry's face. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow…what was she…?—Oh _shit._ She wasn't pointing at his face, she was pointing at his _neck!_

            "Who's the hickey from, Harry?" Hermione inquired, still grinning.

            HICKEY? That idiot had given him a HICKEY? Lovely. Simply _lovely._

            Harry's hand involuntarily shot up to cover the spot on his neck, which didn't do much in his defense. "What? What are you talking about?"

            "Oh, I think you know what I'm talking about!" Hermione pressed, poking Harry with her bookmark.

            "No, I don't!" Harry retorted. By this time Ron had jumped into the conversation as well.

            "Yeah Harry, who's the lucky girl?" he teased, poking Harry's other side with his quill.

            Harry brushed them both off, his cheeks flushing a dusty pink shade. The lucky _girl. Ahahaha…yeah, sure._

            "Ooh! Harry's blushing!" Ron said in a sing-song voice. "Harry's blushing!"

            "Keep it down, stupid!" Harry hissed as Ron pulled him back down into the armchair.

            "You're not going to make us guess, are you?" he inquired.

            "Oh c'mon, Harry; you know we'll find out sooner or later!" Hermione added.

            "There is NOTHING going on, so both of you just leave me alone!" Harry hissed, crossing his arms stubbornly.

            Ron grinned at Hermione. "I think we get to guess now."

            "Is it Parvati?" Hermione asked. ((A/N: Did I spell her name wrong?))

            "No."

            "Lavender?" Ron offered.

            "No."

            "Ginny?!"

            "No."

            "GOOD," said Ron.

            "Ooh, Cho? Can't believe I didn't think of her first," said Hermione.

            "I _wish!" Harry laughed._

            "Oh, so it DID happen, eh?" Hermione nudged him playfully. "Just tell us, Harry!"

            "Pleeeease? I'll be your best friend!"

            "You _are my best friend, you dolt."_

            "Oops, my bad."

            "Harry—"

            "LOOK," Harry said, getting up from the chair once more. "Nothing happened, okay? Just leave it alone!" he rubbed his temples.

            Ron stuck out his tongue. "Geez, don't get so worked up about it; we're just having a bit of fun."

            Harry sighed. "I know, I know. Sorry, I'm just tired. Anyway…Goodnight." He turned to walk up the stairs.

            "Goodnight, Harry," Hermione said, turning back to her novel.

            "Y'know, I might turn in, myself," Ron said, making to rise from his chair.

            "Oh no you don't," Hermione said. "_You're _finishing your potions essay."

            "Oh c'mon, 'Mione—"

            "Nope."

            "You know, normal couples—"

            "Who said we were a normal couple?"

            "But I don't get it!" Ron whined.

            Hermione sighed and shut her book. "Move over and I'll help you." Ron made room for her on his chair and she snuggled in beside him.

            The boy quickly kissed her cheek. "Love you."

            Hermione smiled.

º- »¤« -º

            "Kekka! KEKKA!" Evelyn hissed, nudging her friend. 

            Kekka Hoshino blinked a few times and shook her head, coming out of reverie. "Hmm?"

            Evelyn jerked her head towards Professor Sprout, who was currently going over various charts of plants. 

            _Watch it, she keeps looking over here, Evelyn mouthed. Kekka didn't quite catch on._

            _What? She mouthed back, tilting her head in question._

            "Is there a problem, Miss Hoshino?" Professor Sprout asked, raising her eyebrows.

            "Erm, no ma'am," Kekka muttered.

            "Then you'd do well to listen to what I have to say instead of talking with Miss Chang."

            Evelyn winced.

            "10 points from Slytherin," Professor Sprout added, turning back to the charts and continuing her lecture.

            Kekka tried to hold her attention to the lesson, but it wasn't of much use. She usually didn't have any problems listening in Herbology—in fact, it was one of her favorite subjects. Today, however, she couldn't seem to keep her mind focused. It was all because of that girl...Hermione Granger, she believed was her name. Yesterday she had run in to her in the hallway, and she was almost sure that she was the other girl in the dream she had been having. She definitely looked the same as in the dream, and it was weird, but she felt some sort of…connection to her? She supposed that was the right way to put it. It was kinda freaky, to say the least. And she didn't exactly fancy doing any associating with a Gryffindor.

            "Alright!" Professor Sprout said suddenly, knocking Kekka from her thoughts. "Now that that's settled, I want you all to pair up into groups of three and head out into the forest to find these plants. I want a small sample of each, but for goodness sake _don't _bring me back a whole bouquet's worth. This is Herbology, not the florist's. Take your books with you if you want reference—there are sketches on pages sixty-one and sixty-two. Meet back in…" she paused a moment. "Twenty minutes. And _don't go off to far unless you fancy a nice line-up of detentions; you can find all that you need near the edge."_

            Kekka promptly paired herself with her friends Evelyn and December, and the students strolled lazily into the forest to start their assignment. The day was sunny and mild, and so the task wasn't too unpleasant, but since her dreams had started the forest had begun to give Kekka chills every now and then. For the better part of the assignment she pondered her dreams again, glancing over at Hermione every once in a while. That is, until December whacked her on the head.

            "Hey, wake up Kekka; we're not gonna do all the work by ourselves."

            "Yeah, what's up with you? You're all spaced out today," Evelyn added, tying up her long black hair with a red ribbon.

            Kekka shook her head. "Nothing. Just didn't get enough sleep last night, I guess" she lied.

            A few yards back into the forest Hermione, Harry, and Ron were looking for a particularly stubborn root sample around a tree. Or rather, Hermione was looking for the root sample while Harry and Ron roamed aimlessly and pretended to know what they were doing, Harry trying to stay as far away from Draco as humanely possible. 

            "Find anything yet?" Hermione called.

            "Nope," Harry answered for the both of them.

            Hermione squinted over at the two. "Well you're looking around the wrong type of tree, stupid. Try looking around that oak"—she pointed—"Yes, that one." She shook her head and began her searching again. "Ah, there."

            Hermione's eye fell on a few purple-brown, sickly looking leaves sprouting from a damp patch of dirt in between the roots of an oak. She reached out, but a pale hand enclosed on the said plant and pulled, exposing a long-running network of roots.

            Hermione met the monotonous grey eyes of the thief that kneeled before her, holding the root up in silent triumph.

"Hand it over, Malfoy."

            "Hmm?" Draco blinked as if he'd just now noticed her presence. "Oh, hello _'cutie'." He grinned his one-sided grin and looked at the root, stroking his chin in mock thought. "And why should I give this to_ you_?"_

            Hermione clenched her teeth and made a mental note to _never wear that shirt again. Ever. "Because __I was going for it before you were. Now GIVE IT TO ME." She outstretched her hand expectantly._

            Draco cocked his head to the side, his smirk disrupting his otherwise handsome features. He promptly flipped the Gryffindor off and stood, brushing off his robe.

            Hermione bolted up. "Give me the damn root, Malfoy!"

            "Ooh, profanity. You shouldn't say such things."

            Hermione made an attempt to snatch the root from the Slytherin, but stopped short as a violent pain ran through her head. She dug her hands into her wavy brown mass of hair, gripping her skull as the pain pulsed again. 

"Aah…" she whimpered, voice cracking.

            "Help," a voice called, echoing through the forest. Hermione instinctively turned and scanned the never-ending body of trees before her, wondering why no one else seemed to hear it. It was perfectly clear…

            Draco appeared in front of her, eyeing her strangely. Hermione wavered a little, stumbling sickly forward.

            "Whoa, Granger, if you're gonna barf don't do it on _me," the blond said, quickly stepping to the side._

            Hermione walked forward, her mind flashing unrecognizable images. There was death, there was pain—so much pain she could _feel _it clawing and ripping at her heart and in her head. There was darkness, and there was blood…silver blood. Her stumbling turned into running, her mind focused only on getting her deeper into the forest, whether she wanted to or not. She was conscious—she had to be. She knew what she was doing, and at the same time she didn't care or know why. She was conscious on another level; she was conscious outside of herself. She was conscious of pain, and of blood. Slick, horrible, silver blood.

            Two arms grabbed her from behind and held her—she fought them. She kicked and flailed her arms and tried to run forward, the pounding in her head quickening and flaring horribly. And then she fell, and whatever twisted version of consciousness she possessed faded from her entirely as her eyes darkened. 

Kekka Hoshino fell after her, only feet away.     

º- »¤« -º

Review, critique, be constructive, you know the drill. Be hard on me please, I will NOT get offended at all. And remember, please do_ **not**_ include your suspicions on what's going on with the whole forest thing or Draco. I'd like people to figure it out by themselves. Thanks.

If you want to know the status of this story, read the A/N at the beginning of the chapter.

**Review points:**

****

What sucked? What can I improve upon? Etc.

What would you like to see more of?

Is Draco enough of a bastard or does he need to be more…bastard-y?

What were the strong points?

Anything else you want to note.

**Cheers.**

**--Raven**

**********EDIT: ****1/14/04****: READ. NOW. PLEASE.**********

Wow. Usually I wouldn't do this, but can you be even MORE stupid? If it's a Draco/Hermione story, which the summary says fairly obviously, then why would I make it a Draco/Harry slash??? WHY? Why don't you put some actual *thought* into the process of reading this story instead of assuming everything right off the bat. I'm not THAT bad of a writer, so not everything is going to be blatantly set in front of you on a silver platter. 

_Please_, people, calm down. Homosexuality is not the wrath of Satan, you WILL live. Try to see the humor in the situation instead of going "EWEWEWEWEWEWOMGOMG BOIS R KISSINGGGG!!!!!!1111" It's life, people. Deal with it. If it's so totally horrifying to you, so horrifying, in fact, that it is the only aspect of the story you comment on, then you really need to get out more. And obviously something weird is going on since this is NOT Draco/Harry slash…..so as I said, maybe *think*? Hmm.

Ok, I've been mean and bitchy now, so I'll stop. Please accept my humble apologies for my rantiness. You know I love you all. ^^ (Well, most of you, anyway) I just had to get this out of my system, lest I lose readers to their misperceptions. -__- And not all of this applies to everyone…some it doesn't apply to at all. And those people I commend.

**In conclusion, show some maturity and half a wit. …And forgive me for bitching.**

Anyway. I've already started on the next chapter, so expect it some time in late January or early Febuary. 


End file.
